


Ice Ice Baby

by AnonEhouse



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Infantilism, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 19:04:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is insane, but he remembers being a loving father. Tony is insane, and he could actually use a loving father. Add a bit of Asgardian mental age-wiping, and Loki gets a chance to baby Tony.</p><p>(No nookie or abuse of 'baby' Tony.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Loki looked around his comfortably appointed quarters and ran his fingers over the wards where they flickered into faint visibility on the window sills. He smiled in delight. He's insane, he knows he's insane, but it doesn't bother him, because he got what he was after. Just because you're insane doesn't mean you're stupid. He was safe in Asgard, where Thanos would never, ever be able to touch him, not even in his dreams. It had been a little risky, planning a Midgard invasion intended to fail, but it was the only way he could get beyond Thanos' reach. He was slightly put out that Thor could believe him so stupid as to goad the few people capable of defeating him, so stupid as to allow a mind-slave to build a failsafe into his device, so stupid as to not recognize the calling bracelets Stark wore. But he was only a little annoyed at his brother. He might someday kill Thor, but he did love him. Everyone loved Thor.

Thor came to visit often, bringing him delicacies and amusements and court gossip. Now that the healers had admitted his madness, had peered into his psyche and seen the ragged scars, even Odin felt pity for him, and maybe even a touch of fatherly guilt, which accounted for Loki's confinement in luxury. It wasn't something you give up; a father's responsibility. Loki had been a good father, had loved all his children and treated them all alike regardless of their appearance, which was really more than Odin could say, if he were honest. There'd always been the little, niggling definition of Loki as lesser than Thor, Thor the Golden, Thor the Warrior, Thor the Popular, Thor my Son to be Molded in my Image, Thor the Not Bright Enough to see Manipulation instead of Being a Suspicious, Clever Bastard like Loki. Oh, Loki hated Thor. Almost as much as he loved him. 

"Loki!" Thor entered in a dazzle through the door wards, smiling and Golden as ever.

Loki turned and gave Thor his best, and most nearly honest, smile in return. He was a little bored, so he hated Thor less than usual. "Brother!" That always made Thor melt. "You look well. Have you been visiting your lady on Midgard?"

"Indeed I have." Thor's smile faltered.

"Is all not well with your beloved?" Loki really didn't wish her any particular harm. Let Thor cherish her fleeting sweetness. Loki would still be here after her charms withered and all that Thor had left of her were memories. He would weep in Loki's arms. It would be pleasant.

"The Lady is well, quite well." Thor sighed and sat in Loki's best chair. Always the best for Thor. "But the Man of Iron, he who carried death into the void... he ails..."

Loki picked up a fruit from the basket Thor had brought, turning it over to enjoy the scent before biting into it. "Oh, I can imagine." Loki still sees the endless horror and worse, the things that look almost right, still hears the voices that pull and tear at your mind, finding your weaknesses and ripping asunder, until... the void wins, and you break. "How many has he killed in his madness?" The fruit is sweet, and he licks the juice from his lips.

"None, by merciful providence. His machines had sense enough to st..." Thor studied Loki for a moment. "You are not surprised by this news?"

"If I could not withstand the void, then what could you expect of a fragile mortal's mind?" Loki felt an odd curl of kinship, a little twist in his gut of sympathetic pain. How strange. "Have they slain him?"

"Nay. They have..." Thor's eyes didn't quite go to the warded windows, to the ever-watched mirrors, to the softly yielding walls and the utter lack of anything even half as sharp as Loki's tongue. "They have placed him where he may be safe while their mind-healers attempt to cure him."

This fruit had been a favorite of one of Loki's children. He can't... recall now... who it was. He tossed the half-eaten fruit out the window to see the bright glitter. "They will not succeed." He smiled as a thought came to him, but then he was sad again. He had almost liked the Midgardian; he had courage and wit for all that he was a mere babe in comparison to Loki. "How long was he in the void?"

"Not long. A few minutes. We thought him perished at first, but he awoke, and seemed well. It was several days later when the truth emerged."

"Give him to me." 

"What?" Thor stood up, and shook his head. "Loki..."

Loki tilted his head back and smiled at Thor. "I could restore him to his senses, such as they were. I know what the void does. I know how to fight it. I know how to bring him back. Give him to me. Let him be mine."

Thor frowned. "Your jest is in ill taste, brother. This man has suffered enough at your hands."

"Then it is only right that my hands should heal him." Loki remembered the feel of his hands on Stark's throat, remembered picking him up and throwing him as if he were a child. There was that odd feeling again. At first he was just thinking that healing Stark would relieve his boredom, but now he remembers how pleasant it had been having someone small and young depending on him. Looking up to him with simple affection. Being trusted. "I would use no magic of my own once the healers had prepared him."

"Prepared? No, Loki, I do not know what you intend, but I will not let you use anyone for your amusement."

Loki spread his hands. "Then you condemn this brave, noble creature to a lifetime of imprisonment within his own mind. Fortunately, that won't be very long. Midgardians are bright little things, while they last." Loki knew Thor would be thinking of his Lady, confusing his feelings for her with the more distant pity he felt for Stark.

"What would you have the healers do?"

 _Victory._ Loki didn't gloat or smile. "Make him as a babe in mind."

Thor drew back in horror. "What depraved thought is this? You would have us make your enemy a helpless plaything?"

Loki lifted his chin and met Thor's eyes, suddenly angry. "No. I want to be a father again, for a little while. I want... I want to be the sun and the moon and the stars, the guide and the teacher, the comfort and the protector. For a little while. It is no game to me. I know I can cure him. And when he leaves, one child of mine will walk free as I never will. That is what I would have you do."

Thor was silent for a long, long moment, and then he nodded. "I will discuss your request with father. If he agrees, then I shall go to Midgard and lay your offer before them.

"Thank you, brother."


	2. Chapter 2

Loki kept his smugness in check when they brought Stark to him. The Midgardians had resisted for months, but then Stark somehow managed to escape and was recaptured after a battle with another armored warrior which resulted in significant property damage and much public panic. Loki didn't know whether anyone had been killed, and he didn't care. He was getting what he wanted, that was all that mattered. The mind-healers had made Stark sleep while they pushed the raw and bleeding adult mind below the child. He was still sleeping when Thor carried Stark into Loki's quarters. Dressed in a plain white shift lit by the blue glow of that interesting device in his chest, Stark looked small and vulnerable, which pleased Loki. He liked it when what he imagined matched reality. That didn't happen very often.

"They did not take his memories," Thor warned as he laid Stark down on Loki's huge, fur-covered bed.

"Of course not." Loki studied Stark... no, Tony. Call him as a child, think of him as such. "To cure the memories, they must be faced." Tony had been shaved clean; Loki didn't know whether the mind-healers had done it, or perhaps his Midgardian caretakers. The smooth face suited Loki's purpose. He could see the ghost of the child more readily.

"He will know you tried to kill him." Thor stood with his arms hanging lax. He was always at a loss without his hammer, but some courtesy kept him from bringing it when he visited Loki who of course wasn't allowed even to see any of his own long-cherished weapons. Loki hated Thor for that courtesy. Thor should have hated him back. "He will fear you."

"He fears the universe." Loki leaned over to run his fingers through Tony's hair. It obviously needed washing. "He fears you. He fears himself. His past. His future." Loki smiled and stroked Tony's cheek, so warm, so soft and vulnerable- he could tear out that throat with a single motion and then laugh at Thor's expression... but he wouldn't, Tony was his. His child. He tried the word in his mind and wasn't quite satisfied. His baby. Yes. That was better. Loki's last baby. "The void strips away distance and time. Old injuries bleed afresh. Even in a short mortal life one can accumulate much that is pushed aside, scabbed over but still tender beneath." And Loki knew Tony Stark. He hadn't spirit-accompanied Selvig simply to make sure the man agreed to work on the Tesseract. That would have been an unnecessary risk- Selvig would have given much for the chance to study it entirely without Loki's goading, and possibly Thor would have told SHIELD how to detect him. No. He'd gone so he could contact Fury's mind, read from it the details of those who would be summoned to battle him. He needed to know their strengths and weaknesses. There were other ways he could have got the official information kept at SHIELD, but Fury didn't put all he knew in the records. 

Fury knew much more about Tony Stark in particular than were in the files. He'd known Tony's father over many years. He'd spoken with the Air Force doctor who had briefly (Tony kicked him out when he tried to check Tony's chest) seen Tony in Afghanistan, discussed him with the spy who'd watched him being slowly poisoned, had reports from everyone, right down to the police officer who served a subpoena on him. The signs of damage were everywhere, disguised by glitter and the blur of motion, intimacy deflected by making himself as unlikable as possible. It was all very familiar to Loki. Tony Stark had been broken for a long time. The void just pulled the cracks apart. Loki looked at Thor. "You may as well leave now. It will be unpleasant when he wakes."

Thor frowned. "You have given your word not to harm Tony Stark?"

Loki smiled. Thor would never learn to properly distrust. In this case, he was right, but hardly because of _words_. "Of course. I give you my word, brother." After Thor left, Loki wondered once again what would happen to Asgard when Thor reigns. The stupidity will be epic. Who knows, in the confusion Loki might escape. If he wants to. He may not bother when the time comes, not if it's more amusing to stay. He could battle at Thor's side, or perhaps on the enemy's. Or maybe both. That might be a challenge.

But for now, he had a baby to tend. He considered stripping Tony to bathe him while he slept, but the spy had hinted that Tony showed signs of aversion to water. It would be a nuisance to have him wake up screaming in the bath; it might make the watchers enter and he did not want strangers around his baby. His. No one else was going to touch his baby. He could put up with uncleanness for a while. He undressed and put on his softest robe before getting into bed. He gathered Tony against his chest. Midgardians were baby-soft and baby-warm. Tony shifted slightly and sighed, breath soft and warm against Jotun flesh.

Loki closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Tony, slowly rocking from side to side. There was a memory. A night when there had been a child in his arms, restless and unhappy. He didn't try to pull the memory, that always made it tear like age-rotted lace. He swept a path clear for it, and let it fall as it would. He began to sing, "The sky is dark and the hills are white, As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night; And this is the song the storm-king sings, As over the world his cloak he flings: 'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;' He rustles his wings and gruffly sings: 'Sleep, little one, sleep.' "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki is singing, 'Norse Lullaby ' by Eugene Field (1850-1895). When I googled, it was just too perfect. I assume Loki picked it up on Earth-or, who knows, maybe Field overheard him.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki was still singing when Tony woke. He didn't have much advance warning, just a stiffening of the formerly pliant body, and a jerk as Tony flung his head back and looked up at Loki before he screamed and began flailing with all four limbs in an uncoordinated fit of either panic, rage, or madness. Loki couldn't really tell from his expression. It was disconcerting, and unexpected. He really didn't know what to do. None of his babes had been so noisy. Or had they? He maneuvered carefully out from under Tony and put a pillow on his chest to protect it from the ill-guided fists- it couldn't be good to hit that thing, could it? He'd seen Iron Man take blows to the chest, but that was Iron Man, not his baby Tony.

He tried singing and gently stroking Tony's belly. He offered him honey mead, but Tony spit out the few drops Loki had managed to get in the general direction of his mouth as if it was poison. He used the feeble remnant of magic left to him to conjure up a scene of gamboling silver fawns. Tony howled louder, taking so few breaths in between that he was beginning to acquire almost a Jotun baby blue tint. Loki was becoming alarmed. Any moment now the watchers would decide Loki was a failure and take his baby away. Or maybe Tony would actually hurt himself. Midgardians were delicate, and that thing in his chest must make breathing more difficult. He gave up on rational thought and just gathered Tony into his arms again, holding the pillow in place and rocking them both while he kept talking, hoping to get through. "Tony, baby, shhh. Be quiet, love. It's all right, no one's going to hurt you. You're safe here."

He didn't know how long it took before Tony stopped fighting his hold, but eventually Tony was reduced to hiccuping, wet gasps for breath, shaking so hard his teeth chattered. "Shhh." Tony's hair was soaked with sweat, but his skin was much cooler than it had been, which probably wasn't good for anyone who hadn't Frost Giant blood. "Would you like a bath, love?" Tony wouldn't understand much, but Loki knew he'd been a precocious child, so at least the tone might get through. 

Tony looked up at him. His eyes were huge and dark, shimmering with tears, but this close Loki was surprised and pleased to discover within the dull Midgardian hue a few wedges of reddish brown, almost Jotun eye-color. He rocked Tony in his arms, crooning. "That's my good boy, that's my honey lamb." He'd had children who looked less like him. Who knows, maybe he had visited Midgard and gone to Howard Stark's woman in her dreams, amusing himself by taking what wasn't his, by giving what would never belong to Midgard- an outcast like himself? He knows he didn't. He knows better. But he doesn't have to know better. He could know whatever he wanted. The void is all possibilities. He stroked Tony's cheek, no longer as smooth as before and then removed Tony's sweat-soaked shift.

He carried Tony to the bath, which had silently filled itself with flower-scented water that steamed, hotter than would be comfortable for him, but should suit his baby. Tony saw the water and turned, burying his face against Loki's chest. He was shaking again, and clutching at Loki's robe with both hands fisted tight. "Oh. Yes. The bad people scared you with water." This would be a problem. He couldn't leave his baby so dirty, but he didn't want a repetition of that tantrum. "But this is different water. It's good." Tony pressed harder against him.

"It's not even really water." Loki sighed and stepped into the too-hot water, wincing. What would a baby Tony like? He'd seen the places Tony had lived in--oh, yes, that charming little shack by the ocean. "It's the shore, look." Easy enough to turn the water invisible, to give a semblance of wet sand, brightly colored shells, tiny purple crabs and blue-ringed baby octopuses crawling along. "Wouldn't you like to play?" Loki shifted until Tony could peek past him at the miniature shoreline. In the hazy distance there were sailboats, gulls and clouds hiding the true wall. 

Tony bit at his lower lip in indecision, then stretched out his hand toward a glowing red and gold shell. Loki smiled and sat down and began rubbing 'sand' over Tony's legs and feet, tickling gently. Tony giggled and grabbed at the shell, which floated just out of reach, distracting him.

Loki liked the smell of a clean baby. It made him smile. He was careful, so careful, never get the soap in the eyes or mouth, never make the baby cry. Untangle the soft hair so slow, no knots, no pulling, no tears. A little, just the least, touch of magic in the soap to take off that nasty scruffy beard on his baby's face and throat. Babies shouldn't have beards. He kissed the top of Tony's head. His sweet baby.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter today, sorry about that. Got this far & brain went dry, but it ended on a good pausing point so I figured I'd post what I have & hope the well fills up tomorrow.

Loki kept the bath short, not because he was uncomfortable in the overly warm water, although he was, but because Tony began to get frustrated by the illusions he couldn't touch. Loki stood up and tickled Tony's belly before his baby could begin brilling in earnest. "Sweetheart, so pretty, so clean." He kissed Tony's temple, careful not to drop him despite Tony's squirming. His baby wasn't used to affectionate touches, but perversely craved them. Honestly, Midgardians didn't deserve to have babies if they wouldn't treat them right. 

He wrapped Tony up in a fluffy blanket and took him back to the bed, where the ones who watch had provided all the necessities. Oiling and powdering and putting on the clout brought back... not quite memories... but feelings, good ones, back when he was ignorant and hopeful. Tony smelled right now, soft and sweet, like a well-loved baby should. His baby was flushed pink from his bath, except for all the places where there were scars. So many scars over so short a life. Loki took extra care in oiling the ones around the machine, while Tony watched him with quiet baby solemnity, as near to stillness as Loki had seen him while awake. 

"You're too serious." Loki touched the tip of Tony's nose and then laughed at Tony's grab for his own. "Such a clever baby." He bent his head down to blow cool over Tony's belly and make him giggle. "I love you, baby. Yes, I do." His baby. His fragile little mortal baby. He heard Tony's stomach grumble against his ear, and sat up. Tony had a baby's mind, but a man's teeth and appetite; a bottle of milk would certainly not do. Tony had the muscle to chew, but not the control. Porridge for now. He obviously hadn't been eating well for a long time.

Feeding Tony was a nightmare. Loki wound up with half the porridge spit all over him before he got smart and made every other spoonful sweet applesauce. That worked for a little while, until Tony figured it out and every other spoonful got rejected. "Do you want to do it yourself? Can you hold the spoon?" Loki tried to hand Tony the spoon.

That was a mistake of epic proportions. Tony had been merely pouting, but as soon as the spoon touched his hand he went into a screaming, shrieking fit.

"No, no, bad spoon, bad!" Loki threw the spoon out of the window, where it flashed into gold glitter and vanished. Tony stopped screaming and stared at the glitter, wide-eyed. Well, why not. "Bad bowl!" Loki said cheerfully, and flung the remnant of the porridge to follow it. Tony clapped his hands and giggled. Loki picked him up and went over to the window, and began flinging out various small non-essential items. "Bad cushion! Bad gloves! Bad... no, wait, I like that," Loki said as he put down the book he'd been reading. Tony spread his fingers and made grabbing motions. Loki held a small wooden ornament just out of his reach. "You want this, Tony?" He pulled it back when Tony reached for it. "Are you sure?" Tony got a determined look on his face and this time, when Loki offered the ornament, he let him take it. Tony stared at it and then threw it out the window.

There weren't many small items left in the room by the time Tony sighed and leaned against Loki, all the tension gone from both of them. Loki said softly, "Sometimes it feels very good to destroy things."


	5. Chapter 5

"On yonder mountain-side a vine  
Clings at the foot of a mother pine;  
The tree bends over the trembling thing,  
And only the vine can hear her sing;  
"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;  
What shall you fear when I am here?  
Sleep, little one, sleep."

Loki stood by the window, rocking Tony in his arms as he sang, and remembered the window on Midgard, the one he'd smashed Tony through. He'd been angry at his failure to control Tony and lost his temper, that was all. He hadn't wanted Tony dead, he just needed to kill something at the moment, and Tony was handy. He'd needed the Avengers, particularly the Hulk and Iron Man. Without them, the invasion probably would have succeeded and Thanos would have... oh, he'd probably have kept his word to make Loki king of Midgard, king of the dead. He might even have left Loki alive to wander through the ruins. That would have amused Thanos, but ruling the dead held no interest for him. They were too quiet, they couldn't kneel and beg him for mercy. He hadn't particularly wanted to rule even live Midgardians, but when Thanos caught him in his fall Loki had lied, given him the best lies, ones with a hint of truth. He had wanted to be king, of Asgard. And he had wanted to take what Thor loved. Midgard was close enough to Thor's heart because of the attachments he'd formed during his exile, as one could count on foolish, fond, sentimental Thor doing without fail. The man had only to enter a room to become its center. 

Loki wasn't sentimental at all. He rocked Tony and looked out over the kingdom that should have been his. He would have been a good king. He would have destroyed anything and everything that threatened. He would have made all worlds bow down in terror before him, enslaved the universe to Asgard. It would have been very good. He bent his head to kiss Tony's hair. "You would have been a prince, my prince." No, no, Tony would have been dead, would have died fighting. Of course he would, Loki's children are, were? he can't remember, all fearless. They could not be made to surrender. They could be hurt. Oh, yes. They could be chained and tormented. They could be murdered before his eyes-- were they? Yes? No? Loki isn't sure which is true, not that it matters, he is the one who decides what is truth and what is lies. The void is all truth and all lies. Loki is the void. He is vaster than empires. He is... what is he? Oh. He is a father. Yes. Tony is warm and soft in his arms. His little prince of lies. Lies are sweet. 

He returned to the bed and lay Tony down, covered his baby and tucked the thick blanket smoothly around him. "Good baby. Such a sweet boy." Loki stroked Tony's hair. He looked up at the sound of someone... who else?... Thor... entering his chambers. He stood up, putting himself between Tony and Thor. "Do not wake him."

"I will not," Thor replied. He leaned around Loki to look at Tony, curled up and with his thumb stuck in his mouth, and frowned. "Is this really necessary?"

"You speak too loudly." Loki caught Thor's arm and guided him to the far side of the room. "And yes, it _is_." Loki was angry. Thor had everything, and he begrudged Loki his baby. "He must trust me completely before I can guide him back from the edge of the void. Absolutely, as a child trusts. Anything less will not do."

Thor reached up and took both Loki's shoulders in his own. "For myself, I would trust you, brother, but... it is not my life, my mind, that relies on you in this."

Loki grinned. "Why should you trust me? I could break him, break him so far that insanity would be an unreachable relief. It would be simple. I have so few occasions to exert power over others, it must be tempting, must it not?"

"No, Loki."

"No. He is now my child. _Mine._ I will put my mark on his very soul."

"What mark, Loki?" Thor asked. "Would you have him mirror your madness?"

Ah, so Thor had learned that promises can be broken. Best not to push too far, however amusing it may be. The watchers were always there. "I would not." Loki would not declare his horror at the thought of a parent hurting his child, of tossing him aside to die because he was too weak, or crippling him so he would not outshine his parents, would not grow beyond them. He would not tell Thor the satisfaction he felt at tricking and killing his Frost Giant sire, sire not father, Odin was his father, although Loki wasn't his son. Thor might believe him, and pity him even more. "I wish him free and sane, to return to Midgard knowing that I saved him."

"You would do this for nothing more than a mortal's gratitude?" Thor looked skeptical.

Loki laughed, softly, so as not to wake the baby. "He will not be grateful. But he will remember me, and as Midgardians go, he is an influential man. Whatever he achieves will be because I enabled him to succeed. When he builds an empire with his name on it, mine shall be there, unseen but felt."

Thor raised his eyebrows. "That seems even less of an incentive. What use is second-hand fame?"

"What use is anything? I do this because I _can_."

"And that brother, I do believe." And then Thor hugged him, which Loki tolerated although his hand itched for the feel of a blade, for the warmth of blood running over his fingers, for the surprised and offended look on Thor's face. Ah, well. Another day.

***

After Thor left, Loki was restless and paced. He felt the dark, bloody clouds pressing, scratching their cat claws for admittance to his mind. Damn Thor for stirring them up. He would have liked to have kept Tony for a few months, at least, but once the clouds burst the watchers would take him away, and probably refuse to bring him back afterward. Damn Thor, he always spoiled all Loki's pleasures.

Well, he'd just have to bow to necessity and accelerate the treatment. Loki looked in the basket Thor had brought; fruit and cheese, along with a knife that would only cut the original contents of the basket. It was a clever little piece of magic; Loki wondered who had done it. He wondered if their skills were appreciated or taken for granted, as if learning to use the unseen forces was somehow cheating, unworthy, unlike the _honorable_ skills of hand-to-hand combat. So much more noble to bash someone's head in with a hammer than to... no, he's wandering again. Hate Thor later. There will be plenty of time for that. He sliced the cheese and several pieces of fruit into wedges. Time to test his baby's trust. If it's too soon, he'd have to wait and try to hold the clouds back.

Loki sat on the bed with the plate of food on his lap and just watched his baby sleep for a while, lightly stroking Tony's hair and his magically smooth cheek. He traced faint lines at the corners of Tony's eyes, evidence that his baby often smiled. He drew back the covers carefully and looked at the arc reactor, adding up the bits and pieces Fury had learned about it and the guesses about its provenance and abilities. The color... was familiar. He laid one hand to cover it, letting the light tell him its story. "Ah," he said softly, "no wonder my staff failed. Tesseract fire already burns within your heart." He tilted his head and smiled. "And you learned a little about it within the void, didn't you, my love?" Well, that explained how Tony had escaped. He probably wouldn't get very far, with only the instinctive knowledge acquired through madness, but it would make curing him much simpler.

He picked up Tony's hands and crossed them over his chest, letting them rest on the reactor. "Tony. Wake up, baby. It's time to wake."

Tony stirred. His eyes opened wide and startled. His hands patted at the reactor and he made a small noise.

"Yes, it's all right, Tony. No one touched your heart." Loki lifted Tony to a sitting position and piled cushions behind him until he was stable. 

Tony watched Loki, eyes still wide and wary. His fingers kept tapping at the reactor. 

"Such a serious boy!" Loki clapped his hands together. "Pat a cake. Pat a cake. Baker's man. I will, master, as fast as I can. Pat it, and prick it; and mark it with a T, Put it in the oven for Tony and me." It took several attempts before Tony tentatively reached out to touch Loki's hands. At first he flinched, but after a few minutes he was giggling and managing to hit Loki's hands most of the time. Each time their hands touched, Loki said, "Good boy," or another word of praise. Finally he pulled Tony into his lap and kissed his cheek. "Such a sweet boy. You trust your daddy Loki, don't you?"

Tony squirmed and waved his arms, still excited from the game.

Loki picked up an apple slice and tapped Tony's mouth with it. Tony blinked, and then opened his mouth, taking the apple in and chewing it messily. When he finished, Loki tried him on a piece of cheese. Tony wrinkled up his nose and turned his head aside, so Loki ate it. "You don't like goat cheese? Well, that's all right, it probably came from Thor's nasty old goats, anyway." Loki held another piece of apple where Tony could see it, but this time he waited until Tony took it from his hand. "Good boy." He moved the plate closer. 

Tony was still chewing. He looked down at the plate, and a wrinkle of concentration formed between his brows. He reached down and got a piece of apple. He held it for a moment, and then shyly offered it to Loki. "What a good boy." Loki took the apple and kissed Tony on the cheek. Tony smiled and patted at Loki's face gently.

"Such a good boy." Loki laughed. So easy, so simple. Midgardians were such delightfully uncomplicated creatures. Maybe he would go back some day and rule them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the second stanza of Mr. Field's poem appears in this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

The dark padded soft-footed, darting needle-threads, crystal-seeds, frost-edges growing to scatter his mind's vision, reminding him he was born of ice, of winter, of harsh, frigid endings. Loki held his summer-warm, sun-bright, baby closer. Time was even less a Midgardian's friend than Loki's. Already there were hints of frost in Tony's hair. He rocked Tony, slowly. There was no more time to play, not now. "Sweetheart, you trust me, you trust daddy Loki, don't you." It wasn't a question; couldn't be a question. Either there was trust now, or there was failure.

He picked up a whole apple, a shining, perfectly round, globe. "Trust me, and take it, Tony."

It took a moment for Tony's hands to wrap around the apple, but the delay was due to childish coordination, not hesitation. Loki stroked his hair. "That's my good boy." Now that he knew it was there, his fingers tingled at the faint shimmer-blue of Tesseract infusing Tony. No doubt it was strongest in his blood, but there was enough in skin, especially in the hands of a maker, for what Loki meant to do. Creation was magic; from the mind to reality. Midgardians resorted to the intermediary of physical manipulation but in their dreams they knew the underlying truth/lies of what is/what can be. Loki had seen Tony's light-sculptures, had heard the invisible servant, had seen the souls formed in metal. Tony was a mage who lacked belief in magic, who lacked the spark. Who _had_ lacked the spark.

"Hold it tight, baby." 

Tony tilted his head to glance up at Loki, and then looked back down at the apple. His hands tightened on the fruit.

"Good, that's right. Hold on tight and remember it's an apple." Loki changed the seeming of the apple, at first subtly shifting only the color from golden to green, to red, then changing the _seeming_ of the shape to other Midgardian fruits, some much smaller than the apple, some much larger.

Tony dropped it when the apple looked like a pineapple, spreading his hands to try to match the shape he saw. Loki caught it and laughed at the expression on Tony's face. "You forgot that it's an apple." He tapped Tony's chest, just above the Tesseract light. "See with your heart, not your eyes." Loki sent tendrils, finer than the thinnest spider thread, of his own green magic, to hover a breath away from Tony's skin, tracing the paths from heart to fingers, over and over again until Tony's blue flickered and followed to pool and pulse in a coiling disk at Tony's palms. That was a bit surprising; most mages focused the energies from their fingertips. Well, Loki had never known a Midgardian mage; perhaps they're different. It doesn't matter. It will work that way, too.

Tony took the apple again, this time reaching unerringly through the image of the pineapple to the true shape beneath the illusion. His blue formed a net around the apple. 

"It's an apple all the way through," Loki said gently. He watched as the blue flowed from Tony, sluggishly at first, and then smoothly, until Tesseract blue had sunk all the way into the core, and beyond, into every dimension where the apple was, could be, had been. Loki was as proud of Tony as he'd been of himself the first time he'd sent a twin of himself to distract the cook while he stole tarts. "Well done, baby."

Best to get on with it. He didn't know how long Tony could hold his focus. It would be very bad if he faltered part way through. He kissed Tony's temple. "Remember. It's an apple. Only an apple." He gathered his memories of the void, seeking back to the beginning. The apple darkened, deepened, darker, black velvet pin-pricked for an illusion of stars.

Tony shivered.

"See with your heart." The stars took on form, details impossible, cold heat, charted courses beyond logic, expanding, shrinking, merging, passing through each other with silent screams in the void that was beyond empty, beyond lifeless, and yet held horrors of unlife, of folded space where things like the Tesseract bred to cast three-dimensional shadows. It was the unavoidable impossibility the mind couldn't hold, more horrible than any monster, the logic that said I cannot accept this, cannot visualize this, it cannot exist, but I must accept it, because it does exist.

Tony's eyes were wide and locked on the infinity that was cloaked around an apple, the apple like an irritant inside an oyster. Loki's green gathered around the apple, drew Tony's blue, at first the faintest overlay, more gossamer than morning mist, but gathering faster, and faster, veiling, thickening to swirls of turquoise, aqua, teal, gentling the fury, sweetening the bitter, cloaking the impossible with a thin veneer of reason. There weren't layers enough to cover what Loki had experienced, but Tony's sojourn had been so very brief that he'd only begun to process the madness.

The apple glowed softly, all the colors of the sky and sea, soothing, peaceful. Beyond the sky, beneath the sea there was darkness. The only way out was through. "Eat it, baby. It's good." Loki didn't hold his breath while he waited to see if Tony trusted him enough to accept the darkness, to believe it was safe just because Loki said so, but he did close his eyes. If it failed, he didn't want to see his baby destroyed. He had too many not-memories/not-dreams/not-nightmares of children he'd failed to protect.

He heard the crunch and smelled apple, bright and crisp and clean. He whispered, "Eat it all, Tony."

***

Tony fell asleep the moment the last bite of core vanished down his throat, the magic spreading soothing balm over his madness. The healers would have linked the regression to his insanity, Loki was sure of that. Tony will wake sane, cured and ... no. Loki rocked him and whispered in his ear, "My baby. You'll always be my baby."

Reluctantly, Loki laid Tony down on the bed and covered him. Black, red, and gray were pulling at him, singing obscene songs, biting at his heels, making him stumble toward the abyss. He picked up the book he'd been reading and sat down in a chair near the window. He needed to keep the terrors at bay for a while longer; needed Tony to remember him like this, not... not the other way. He was reading the same page for the fifth time, trying to make the runes stay on the page, make them stop growing spines and growling at him, when he heard Tony stirring on the bed. He put down the book and stood up, relieved that he'd held out long enough. "Tony? Baby?"

"Don't!" Tony sat up, started to get out of bed, and then glanced down at his bare chest, grimacing. He pulled the covers up to his shoulders. "Jesus... what am I wearing... oh, fuck no."

"You remember." Loki smiled, trying very hard to make it a sane, reassuring smile. Judging from the look Tony gave him, his attempt was a dismal failure.

"Yeah, no. Don't touch me!" Tony yelped when Loki took a step closer. "My skin is crawling enough already."

"I cured you. You owe me."

"It doesn't work that way. We still haven't finished adding up all the lives you took, all the people you destroyed. Hell, even I wouldn't have been... messed up... if you hadn't used my _own_ building as your stepladder to the Dark Side."

"Well, that's true." Loki was still smiling. He liked it when his babies showed spirit, had heart. "But you wouldn't have..." He sent a jab of green at Tony, and grinned as Tony's hands came up instinctively, blue disks flashing protectively from his palms. "...that, either."

Tony stared at his hands as the blue ebbed and vanished. "What did you do to me?"

"Taught you how to use what you already had, baby."

Tony winced. "Do NOT call me that." 

"But you are, and you always will be, my baby," Loki said reasonably.

"Uh huh, no, see that's just a no." Tony got up with the bedding wadded up around himself and edged away from Loki while still watching him warily. "THOR. You here, buddy? Visiting time's over."

Loki moved then, so swift Tony had only time to roll his eyes in panic before Loki had him pressed up against the wall, hand around his throat holding him still. He leaned close to whisper in Tony's ear. "Promise me you will visit me, my son." He felt Tony gulp. He could snap a Midgardian neck so swiftly, so completely. No one could stop him. Of course he wouldn't. He wouldn't hurt his baby. He only wanted Tony to listen. To obey. To be a good son. "And do not lie. I am the father of lies, I'll know."

Tony's hands came up to pull at Loki's arm, to no effect. "I... I'm busy, you know. What with protecting Earth, running my business... ok, Pepper does that, but really, I have a lot of commitments! And I don't think I could get Bifrost frequent traveller miles."

"Once a century, that's not too much to ask, is it?" Loki smoothed Tony's hair with his free hand.

"Oh, ok, sure, fine. A hundred years from now, Earth time. It's a date. I'm sure I'll be free then."

Loki released Tony and stepped back just as the watchers swarmed in, taking his baby away. He heard Thor's voice, loud and joyous, but the void was screaming and he was screaming back to drown it out. They encircled him in silence and darkness that was less than void, and he slipped into it, hating and loving the mercy of temporary oblivion.

***

Thor brought another basket of fruit later. Loki wasn't sure how much later. He wasn't really listening to Thor's happy ramblings about Tony's cure, about how he knew all along that Loki... whatever, Loki didn't care. He took one of the apples from the basket, all shining gold, and smiled. Idunn's apples. The apples of immortality, if your magic recognizes them. Odin would be furious if he knew that Loki had awakened Tony's magic and taught it how to use the apple. He'd be so angry that one of Loki's babies would live forever.

Thor eventually left. Loki sat by his window, watching the golden city and rocking an image of his Tony in his arms. He might visit Midgard a hundred years from now. By then Tony would have learned to appreciate his father's love.

"The king may sing in his bitter flight,  
The pine may croon to the vine to-night,  
But the little snowflake at my breast  
Liketh the song _I_ sing the best, ---  
'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;  
Weary thou art, anext my heart;  
Sleep, little one, sleep.' "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (And that was the third and last verse of Mr. Field's 'Norse Lullaby'.)

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was:  
> http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/11264.html?thread=27229440#t27229440  
>  _So Loki has like a dozen children in mythology, right? But he just keeps losing them to circumstance, and his paternal (maternal?) side just acts up royally some times and he has no real way to express it without fear of the loss._
> 
> _So instead he decides to take someone who he doesn't care that much about, and just baby them instead. So every now and then, without letting him know about it, Loki kidnaps Tony, mindwipes him or something like that, and dotes happily until the urge is out of his system, then sends him home back to normal and none the wiser. PLEASE NO SEX STUFF, just a Loki reveling in his need to nurture SOMETHING. Beyond that, gen, angst, humor, fluff, whatever you want._
> 
> _Bonus: If Thor knows about it, but lets it go once he realizes Loki's not hurting anyone and Tony doesn't know it's happening, so no harm, no foul._
> 
>  _Super Bonus: If Tony DOES find out it's happening somehow, and shenanigans ensue._
> 
> I was given permission to vary the situation, giving Loki more motivation to do this, and giving Tony considerable benefit from the scenario.


End file.
